


Check and Mate

by One_Real_Imonkey



Series: Twisted Memories AU [21]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst with a Happy Ending, Force Choking (Star Wars), Happy Ending, Mand'alor Jango Fett, Manipulation, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Obi-Wan Kenobi Lives, Order 66 Didn't Happen (Star Wars), Order 66 Happened Differently (Star Wars), Pregnant Padmé Amidala, Protective Jango Fett, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Rid'alor Obi-Wan, The Dark Side of the Force (Star Wars), This is the happy one guys, dark side manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Real_Imonkey/pseuds/One_Real_Imonkey
Summary: Palpatine was the Sith, he'd been in Anakin's head, and Obi-Wan wasn't standing for it.This Sith had fought many people, likely many Jedi, but he hadn't fought the Rid'alor.(This is the happy one guys, to apologise for (Knight Fall and Holding On).
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Twisted Memories AU [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146377
Comments: 20
Kudos: 238





	Check and Mate

**Author's Note:**

> I told you there was a happier one coming. Here it is.  
> I don't own Star Wars.  
> Please enjoy.

Palpatine was the Sith.

It made so much sense. Every negotiation that had failed, all those awful feelings around the man, the way the Force seemed to sour and curdle and shiver, not that anyone else had seemed to notice it.

Anakin.

The demagolka bastard had been slowly manipulating his son, getting into his head, using the Force and words to get what he wanted.

To try to make him Fall.

To try to get a new apprentice.

He'd tried to turn Anakin away from his family, he’d tried, and nearly  succeeded , to separate them.

He'd been the one to choose Jango for his army, the creation of the  vode and the loss of his husband.

Obi-Wan would be happy to thank him for giving him his  ade , before taking his head.

Taking his head for daring to do such a thing.

But as they approached the Sith’s office, the darkness grew, and, as always, every dark emotion heightened itself.

Fear over what could happen to his family.

Anger over what had already been done.

Guilt that he hadn’t stopped it, that he’d unknowingly let this Sith get his claws into his child and that he’d been working with and for the man who’d taken his  riduur and... and...

Calm.

Focus.

It did not do to dwell on his fears, to let them twist his mind.

If he was to win, he had to be Light, calm, clear of mind and steady in soul.

He had five knights and Masters with him, he’d sent Anakin to find Jango, and Ahsoka and Boba and everyone else, to keep them safe. To keep him safe.

His ad’ika. 

His poor  ad’ika , who’d let him in, for the first time in years, who’s mind had been filled with darkness and almost as many traps as Jango’s had but more subtle, less violent. He'd let Obi-Wan clean it out, and he’d been sobbing by the time Obi-Wan was done, just as able to see where the darkness and damage had been as Obi, in a way Jango couldn’t. 

The Sith would fall, here, today.

Obi-Wan wasn’t going into this fight as a Jedi Master.

He was going into this fight as Mandalorian Rid’alor, as a Buir whose ade had been attacked, a leader whose people had been attacked.

Palpatine was waiting for them, sabre out but not lit.

“Kenobi, why is it whenever my plans go awry, your name comes up. Maul, my clone army, my apprentice. It's always you.”

“It must be the will of the force, Darth.”

“Well, I've had enough. By this time tomorrow, your precious ‘children’ will be my army, and you won’t be here to interfere and I'll have my empire.”

“Not if there’s anything we have to say about it.”

The speed at which the old man moved was starling, like sparring with Dooku. 

He blocked the blade, and before he could deliver a blow, another was being sent for one of the other knights, who couldn’t block in time and was sent sprawling. Not a fatal blow, not if the wound was treated, but they were out of the fight.

Kriff a Sith and Force fuck a tooka, this Sith was fast.

And the waves of darkness unrelenting. His shields felt like they were holding under the pressure, but once this was over, he needed to meditate and make sure nothing had worked  it’s way through and lodged itself deep.

There really were far too many mind control attempts on his aliit. 

But the chips were out of his  ade’s heads, not that Palpatine had caught wind of that, obviously or he wouldn’t have made the threat, and Anakin was free too, mostly. Just in case, he’d sent his eldest as far from the  Sith as he could.

One man should not be such a difficult fight, but with Master  Telltrab down, and the other knights who were still standing beginning to lag, he had to press an attack, dropping his  Soresu for Shien and  Aratu , and what little  Vaapad he knew, in an unpredictable mix.

But all too soon he was the only one still  standing .

Then he wasn’t standing at all.

His head rattled with the force that he’d hit the wall and he wished fleetingly for his  buy’ce , before the pressure around his throat tightened.

His feet kicked out, but found only the wall behind him and the empty air. 

Not only was his breath being cut off, but the darkness, oh it was crashing over him like waves in a storm, ripping and clawing at his shields, and his mental self was barely fending off the whisps that managed to find their way through.

But each one left him a little more tired, a little weaker, a little slower.

The pressure on his throat fluctuated, tight and then he could breathe again, before it would re-constrict. Every time he came close to passing out, it let up. Just enough to keep him awake, even as the lack of oxygen made his limbs tingle and burn and shake, as it dizzied him, making his mental defences weaken.

Electricity occasionally arched from the Sith to his body, whenever the Sith felt it necessary, or entertaining.

He was still dying, but the Sith was drawing it out.

It was agony.

.

.

.

Jango raced down the Senate Building’s halls, having never hated the  building more.

Obi-Wan was fighting the Sith.

The Sith Lord.

The one who’s student had killed Obi’s Buir, the one who had turned Dooku, had been the reason he’d been taken. The one who had been trying to mess with his eldest’s mind.

Anakin had come to him, shaking and sobbing, eyes red and apologies falling off his tongue, because the Sith had been driving a wedge between them and he hadn’t noticed, hadn’t been able to stop them. He'd been controlled, so similarly to the way the Sith had tried to control Jango’s ade, and Jango himself all those years ago. What had his family done to deserve this?

But then Anakin had told him that Obi-Wan was going after the Sith alone.

Not alone, no, he had  other Jedi with him. But not Jango, and not the Vode.

But he had gone after the Sith that had torn their lived apart, had tried to  destroy them, to take his beloved.

He had to get there in time.

Obi-Wan wasn’t even in his beskar, just those robes, those oh so unprotective robes.

He wasn’t alone rushing to the Chancellors office, Windu and Koon and several  Mando’ade and  vode were with him. Anakin had wanted to come, but Jango had demanded he stay with Boba and Ahsoka and  Padmé , that they go see a  Barr'ur , that Anakin’s  aliit needed him and that he had to stay safe, that for the Sith’s link to his mind, he had to stay away or risk being used against them.

Anakin was in no state to fight. The shock of what had happened, that he’d been manipulated and used against what he believed in, that his mind had been invaded and twisted, had left him so shaky he couldn’t hold his hands still, let alone a weapon.

He needed a Mind Healer and a medic, not a fight.

Jango needed a fight, Dha’kad humming in his grasp, not yet activated but singing to him the way Kyber could. It needed a fight too. 

They burst through the already open doors to find carnage. The desk was askew, there were  other Jedi strew on the floor, dead or injured he couldn’t tell at first sight, but they wouldn’t be able to fight.

Obi-Wan was being held against the wall, tied there by invisible strings, body mostly limp, except for the way it hitched and heaved as he tried to draw breath, hands too weak to even claw at the force Jango knew was around his throat, eyes hazy and focused past him. Steam coiled off him and his singed robes where the Sith’s electricity had touched.

Jango saw red, bringing the Dha’kad down on the Sith before he’d even realised he’d activated it, the Sith barely lighting his own blade to catch it, dropping his riduur. It was out of the corner of his eyes he watched Obi-Wan slump boneless to the floor, but the fight continued,  Jetiise by his side,  Mando’ade and Vode taking the sides but keeping a step back, except for the ones checking on the injured.

He had to focus on the fight.

He had to take this threat down so he could help his  riduur .

He'd never been more grateful for the other  Jetiise , for Windu in particular, who was keeping the Sith on the defensive, forcing him backwards.

There was a crackle of lightning and Windu’s attack was halted in an attempt to stop it, and a burst of Force pushed Koon back and Jango felt himself go flying after him. He kept the sabre tight in his grasp, and between that and the beskar, even on the backfoot, he was holding his own.

Just.

Every step back, every clash of the blades that made his arm tremble, as long as he was holding out, someone who was better could get back on their feet and fight with him.

He wasn’t expecting the mass of brown robes that flew sideways into the  Sith and sent them both tumbling to the ground, but neither was the Sith.

He wasn’t sure if the fatal blow was dealt by his Dha’kad, or his riduur’s blue one, but what did it change.

The Sith was dead.

It was over.

They were both alive.

They were both safe.

They were all alive and safe.

It was over.

.

.

.

Jango stood proud on the dais that held his throne, their thrones, in front of the Mandalorian Court.

To his direct left, Obi-Wan, in beskar and standing tall, recovered and stronger than ever.

Behind Obi-Wan, to his left again, Ahsoka and Boba, also in Beskar.

To his right and behind him, Anakin and  Padmé , and Luke and Leia.

To the sides of the halls, Rex’s company and Cody’s company and as many  vode as possible were outside.

Mandalore was strong.

Mandalore was proud.

Despite all  Palpatine's planning,  Mandalore was free.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a:  
> demagolka- child abuser/war criminal/ nasty insult   
> vode- siblings/clones  
> ade- children  
> riduur- spouse  
> ad'ika- small child (affectionate)  
> Rid'alor- Spouse of the Mand'alor.  
> Buir- parent  
> aliit- family/clan  
> buy'ce- helmet  
> Mando'ade- mandalorians  
> baar'ur- doctor  
> Dha'kad- Dark sabre  
> Jetiise- Jedi (plural)
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed and that this made up for the other two and the other ones coming up.  
> I hope this was happy enough, because the next one is in the sad timeline if all goes to plan. Padmé's rescue or a focus on Jesse, depending on whether I've written the former by tomorrow evening. The latter is done but ever so slightly later in the series canon.  
> My Tumblr is One_Real_Imonkey.  
> Please R+R.


End file.
